Path to Salvation
by Xirysa
Summary: Challenge II for the Kent/Lyn Circle comm on LJ! Post-FE7. "And they smile."


**Xirysa Says:** Because the world needs more pure, 100% unadulterated crap. C:

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Path to Salvation  
The Kent/Lyn Circle  
Challenge II: Poison

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She has never wanted this.

Though their lips are silent as she proceeds down the path, their eyes scream accusations all the while. _Savage! Wretch!_

But it does not hurt, because she knows that it is true. What does she know of nobility? She is a child of the plains; she cannot possibly survive in this world, not when she knows the taste of freedom and love and the feeling of the wind rushing through her veins.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost stumbles on her dress, but is held up by the gentle strength of the man upon whose arm she rests. "Lady Lyndis," Kent murmurs, "please, be careful. This is an important day. Your grandfather would have been proud to see you like this."

_Grandfather_. Lying alone and cold and still in his grave. Lyndis strains her ears to see if she can detect any emotion in his voice. Her heart falls. Nothing. But no matter, she tells herself; it will all end soon enough.

"Very well," she says coldly.

He says nothing, but she tightens her grip on the cold metal of his dress armor. She longs to catch a glimpse of his face, to see a spark of kindness in his eyes again, but she knows it will only hurt her more.

They say nothing for the remainder of the walk and soon reach the end of the path, where a man with a nameless face waits for her. Kent bows low to her and the other man, and leaves to take his post to the right of the altar. He doesn't look at her again.

Her heart breaks a bit more.

The ceremony is not long, and soon the priest calls for the rings. _It is strange_, she thinks as the cold metal band is placed on her finger, _that my shackle should be such a small trinket._

And then she is wed. She does not remember the details of the rest of the day, playing her part of a political puppet well. When the hour grows late, her lord husband—a strange term for a man more than ten years her senior that she has only met on occasion—declares that it is time for her to go to bed.

"Sir Kent," he says, his words slurring and thick with drink, while beckoning for a servant to fill his glass yet again, "please escort Lady Lyndis to our chambers."

Kent only bows and offers her his arm. "Milady?"

Lyndis takes his arm tentatively, and they are off. They proceed through the empty stone hallways silently—everyone is still at the feast—and reach the doorway to the nuptial chambers quickly enough. She does not let go of his arm, and he makes no attempt to move away from her.

"Milady," he finally says, and gently pulls his arm away from her. "I wish you good night."

She cannot stop herself, and throws her arms around his neck, ignoring the armor between them. "Kent," she whispers fiercely. "Kent, Kent, Kent."

He simply stands there, unsure as to what he should do, and she suddenly pulls away. "I apologize," she says. "I was too caught up in the moment."

"I understand," he says. "Then if I may…" He leans forward, and she feels herself shiver in delight as his breath fans across her cheeks. And then his lips are on hers, soft and gentle, and her heart is crying for him, for her, for them—for everything that _was_ and _is_ and _could have been_.

Just as quickly, he pulls away. "This way, we are even."

Lyndis can see the rare roughish gleam in his eye and her heart aches painfully. "But we will still be apart." She places her hands on his breastplate.

"I know." Tentatively, he wraps his arms around her.

"I do not think that I could live like that." She looks up at him. "Do you love me?" she asks softly, even though she knows his answer.

He holds her tighter. "More than anything."

She kisses his neck and pulls away. Placing her hand on the doorknob behind her, she looks at him and smiles. "Then stay with me through eternity." The door opens, and Lyndis slips inside.

Kent follows.

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It is her lord husband who finds them, cold and pale on the silken sheets of the nuptial bed. A goblet, its stem broken into hundreds of fragments, lies on the floor, its liquid contents red as blood.

"Guards!" he wails pitifully as he scrambles back to the door. "Guards!"

The sub-commander of Caelin's knights is among the first on the scene. "You fools," he whispers quietly as he gently touches the faces of the princess and her knight. A tear makes its way down his cheek. "You stubborn romantic _fools_."

And all they do is smile at him.

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**Xirysa Says:** And that is that—challenge number two for the Kent x Lyn community on Livejournal. The romantic in me demanded a romantic tragedy, even though I've always thought that both Kent and Lyn would really frown upon suicide, or at least look for another option. Come to think of it, I quite frown upon suicide, too, but it really makes for a great plot device. But then, I wasn't sure how I would tie that into the prompt. Anyway, there you go. Really, though. You won't believe how many plot bunnies I went through before I finally got to this.  
At any rate, thanks very much for reading, and any feedback or critique would be very much appreciated!


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